


Memory

by justasp0rk



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Heartbreak, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Maybe a lil comfort, Memory Loss, Time Travel, Well - Freeform, With A Twist, but then!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-12 22:34:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29392041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justasp0rk/pseuds/justasp0rk
Summary: Someone had come out of the portal.Karl didn’t bother with secrecy as he hastily pulled all his written accounts from the decorated shelves, too frenzied to remember exactly where the enchanted door was. A stumble and groan sounded from the other side of a particular plank. Karl had practically kicked it open and fell into the cold stone room which hid his greatest possession. His greatest curse.“Who-” Karl looked up to try and make sense of the intruder, expecting Dream to be towering over him with an axe pointed to his neck. It was worse, though. So, so much more worse.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Karl Jacobs/Sapnap, implied
Comments: 7
Kudos: 68
Collections: Completed stories I've read





	Memory

**Author's Note:**

> I really have no idea what this is also THIS IS THEIR DREAM SMP CHARACTERS!!! i removed quackity from the relationship bc i know he doesnt like shipping and i honestly have no idea how he feels about c!karlnapity fanfic so. here we are. uh. enjoy?

Soft, irregular yet melodic plucks sounded in the vast expanses of the library. A small fire crackled in the fireplace where the concrete from the bricks was barely dried. The excess smoke drifted in the buildings air and flirted with the scent of newly printed pages, old yellowed ones managing a mumble in the quiet hum. 

Of course, there was the forever lingering spice to the air, spice that for once could be chalked up to the cups of tea and coffee on the small tables. 

Karl’s foot lazily swayed with the tune Quackity was trying to perfect. It had been far too long since the man- once his fiancé, now nothing more a strike of family- had played just to play. Not to soothe the mental gouges of war, or force smiles apon broken faces.

And not to play with a desperation few would ever hear. Not to play because he had exhausted all options, and no longer knew how to jog a poor amnesiac’s memory. 

No, he hadn’t had to play because of that in quite some time now. 

Bad was huddled near the encased mushroom (oh the memories it brought) laughing brightly with Skeppy and Ant at his side. Each of the men had faint red scars surrounding their eyes, something no one would ever dare point out.

It would be hypocritical of them to, with Quackity’s thin white line running from his lip to eye to the grey jagged pieces of Karl’s skin from one travel too many. Perhaps if George were here, he’d make a comment without notice. 

But for what seemed like the first time, the SMP was in an era of peace. Things were still tense, that couldn’t be avoided, but there were no wars. No prisoners, even if many argued that there still should be one. A beautifully quiet lull in the chaos that they had more than earned to enjoy.

Karl jolted where he sat when Quackity struck a chord too out of line with the others, forcing his eyes open. The other gave him a teasing smile and waved, charred yellow wings puffing out behind him. Karl laughed.

“Did I scare the baby?” Quackity said, leaning forward in the beanbag he had practically claimed as his own. Karl hopped up so he could hug his knees to his chest where he sat.

“You popped off right when literally no one asked.” Karl drawled with fake annoyance. Quackity, ever the gentleman, struck the obscene chord yet again with a grin. “You’re literally such a nimrod, what the honk.”

“You looked like you were thinking.” Quackity pointed out with ease. “That’s never a good thing, Big K, had to stop you before the SMP imploded.” 

Karl’s mouth dropped open at the accusation, a breathless laugh leaving him. “Must I remind you,  _ good sir _ , this is my country’s land you're standing on.”    
  
The other man looked between Karl to his own shoes which- alright, sure-  _ weren’t  _ on the ground. “Standing, ey-?”   
  
“You know what I mean oh my honking honk,” Karl dragged a hand down his face while Quackity laughed, earning a small hush from Bad. 

“You can just say fuck,” Quackity tempted.   
  
“Language!” Bad interjected. Karl heard an echoing mock from both Quackity and Skeppy. He smiled fondly as the familiar arguing broke out, replacing the repetitive guitar strums with unpredictable voice inflections. Oddly enough, the amount of comfort he found was about the same.

There were few things he was as grateful of as the In Between. Teaching him not to forget these moments, to be able to stay in them without a forceful pull… He doubted anything would be able to top that.

Karl wasn’t sure when he had joined in on the teasing, or when Quackity had flung his arm over his shoulder and pressed as close as could be with him, but he didn’t mind. His cheeks hurt from smiling and the moment had a clarity to it that made him feel so unbelievably grounded and loved. It was how it used to be, the only thing cold about it all being the weather outside the library doors.

He had seen too many times, however. He should have known that things don’t stay quiet. A quiet that anyone else would have pointed out had become deafening loud if they weren’t so scared to admit it.

And yet faint hints of smoke still flirted with newly printed pages, the elder yellows resting as an undertone to it al. But the spice had shifted. It was subtle, and maybe it would have been noticed if it weren’t for the cups of tea and coffee on the small tables.

  
\--  
  


Karl waved goodbye to Antfrost as he started down the graveled path of the town, winter wind biting at his nose. Ant offered him his biggest smile and waved back, a book tucked under his arm that he had told the group Velvet would adore. Karl watched him go, his silhouette eventually fading into the night. He sighed, retreating back into his now empty library. 

The space was still lovely without company. It was big enough to cause Karl mild discomfort, however. Sapnap shared the space with him, a small home just under the library with stairs that were hidden beside the mushroom case. He still wasn’t home. Karl didn’t think anything of it.

Sapnap often hunted late into the night, or found a sense of purpose in slaughtering mobs. Karl never worried over him much if he wasn’t home by sunset.

Karl pulled out a Spruce chair and plucked a random book off the shelves, sitting down with a deep and contented breath. He had been meaning to research his next time jump anyways, now he was able to.

_ The Mushroom Prince _

All Karl hoped was not to step on any toes with his next plan. Mainly Dream’s. He just needed to know, needed to  _ check  _ that he was right about-

A flash of purple and green came from the overhead floorboards. Karl felt a sudden whiplash of timelines surge through and around him, the book clambering to the floor. He was up and running before he had even processed what the light had meant, being so careless with the stair rail that loose wood lodged its way into the palm of his hand. 

Someone had come out of the portal.

Karl didn’t bother with secrecy as he hastily pulled all his written accounts from the decorated shelves, too frenzied to remember exactly where the enchanted door was. A stumble and groan sounded from the other side of a particular plank. Karl had practically kicked it open and fell into the cold stone room which hid his greatest possession. His greatest curse.

“Who-” Karl looked up to try and make sense of the intruder, expecting Dream to be towering over him with an axe pointed to his neck. It was worse, though. So, so much more worse.

Sapnap was leaned against one of the narrow walls with his hand gripping at his shirt, breathing heavy and ragged. He was looking every which way, a sort of crazed and distressed air about him. When he landed on Karl, however, the librarian felt his throat close.

Karl had always loved Sapnap’s eyes. They were a greyish blue, reminded him of Karl’s favorite type of weather and lit up so immensely bright whenever the man was happy. They allowed so many unspoken words to be passed between them, things they were far too scared to whisper out loud.

No words could describe the hatred he felt for the green spiral that tainted his lovers eyes. Eyes that had so much to say, so much that Karl had seen himself ask before.

His eyes whispered,  _ Have we met? _

Karl felt tears begin to build.

His eyes whispered,  _ I should know you.  _

A heart wrenching sound echoed in the small cavern.

  
  
His eyes whispered,  _ Where am I?  _

Every intake of air felt like glass. Every sound was a physical scratch on his eardrums. Far too loud. Far too quiet.

  
  
And underneath it all, his eyes screamed,  _ I need to remember you. _

\-----

For what seemed like the first time, the SMP was in an era of peace. Things were still tense, that couldn’t be avoided, but there were no wars. No prisoners, even if many argued that there still should be one. A beautifully quiet lull in the chaos that they had more than earned to enjoy.

But what if a G-d and his King were growing bored, tired even?   
  
What if a G-d and his King had someone they felt had meddled too much?

The SMP could have peace. That was fine. It’s residents, however, could not. 

**Author's Note:**

> literally no idea what this was i am so sorry that you read all that word vomit


End file.
